


Diner Dog

by Pixial



Series: Diner Dog [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Elements, Werewolf!Mcree, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixial/pseuds/Pixial
Summary: It all started with the dog.Hanzo should have known better, of course, than to try to pet and feed stray dogs, especially ones that looked more like wolves than your average Canis lupus familiaris and were capable of knocking over the dumpster behind the diner despite having only three legs. But Hanzo couldn’t help himself; the poor thing was starving and alone and how could he resist those soulful amber eyes and mismatched ears?Which was how he now found himself cursing his existence as he slumped over the cash register at The Triple Dragon Diner-- his brother’s choice of names, not his-- at 3:00am. The dog had a schedule, and Hanzo had for some God-forsaken reason decided to take the night shift to ensure the poor thing got his fill of leftover bacon and eggs, as well as the ever important tummy rubs.





	Diner Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Full Moon Fanzine!

It all started with the dog.

Hanzo should have known better, of course, than to try to pet and feed stray dogs, especially ones that looked more like wolves than your average Canis lupus familiaris and were capable of knocking over the dumpster behind the diner despite having only three legs. But Hanzo couldn’t help himself; the poor thing was starving and alone and how could he resist those soulful amber eyes and mismatched ears?

Which was how he now found himself cursing his existence as he slumped over the cash register at The Triple Dragon Diner-- his brother’s choice of names, not his-- at 3:00am. The dog had a schedule, and Hanzo had for some God-forsaken reason decided to take the night shift to ensure the poor thing got his fill of leftover bacon and eggs, as well as the ever important tummy rubs.

Genji had laughed for an hour when he figured out why he, Hanzo Shimada, a man who practically worshipped the luxury of sleeping late now that they were out of their parents’ influence, was willing to take the night shift for two weeks straight.

The bell chimed as the door opened, distracting him from his litany of self-derived insults. As hard as it was to believe, there were actual customers during the night shift. Not many and usually some form of stoner, but they did come in for an early (or extremely late) breakfast. Hanzo looked up, his service smile already plastered on his face and…

Oh. The smile faltered, becoming something more genuine despite his best efforts. The scruffy man filling the doorway was a regular, a new one, but Hanzo could already count on him making an appearance at least once a night. Ordinarily, Hanzo would brush him off as another addict of some variety with a severe nightly case of the munchies, but as unkempt and tired as the man-- Jesse, he called himself-- seemed, he was too alert to be under any form of intoxicant.

“Howdy, darlin’,” he called wearily with a smile that brightened the entire room. 

“Greetings,” Hanzo replied, fighting off the blush that appeared like clockwork around Jesse. “Your usual?”

“Please and thank you,” the man replied, plopping himself down on the bar stool in front of Hanzo and setting a tattered Stetson next to him.

Hanzo nodded before setting to work. Jesse’s usual was pretty much everything on the menu-- high in quantity and protein. Hanzo had no idea how he managed to pack it all away and not get sick, but the act itself was impressive. Whatever Jesse did for a living worked up an appetite.

Hanzo had once asked what Jesse did to keep him up at this unholy hour. He assumed it was some form of illegal activity or else top secret law enforcement because Jesse’s answer had been, “Simply put angel? I’m a werewolf.”

Which was altogether ridiculous.

Still, he could take a hint, and since he honestly had no room to judge when it came to quasi-legal and secretive activities, Hanzo let the silly answer suffice and concentrated on cooking and flirting.

 _Cooking_ , he told himself firmly as he piled more bacon on a plate than was likely safe for anyone. Flirting while working was a _terrible_ idea. 

Even if he did want to see what this particular customer looked like in the daylight. And who made conversation as easy and simple as breathing. 

Hanzo slapped a fried egg on top of the bacon and shook himself. He was working and Jesse hadn’t indicated anything remotely resembling interest. After all--

“Hey, Han?”

Hanzo looked up to see Jesse looking at him in favor over his unusually still full platter. “Hanzo, I uh… Look, this might be inappropriate since I’m a customer and all, and you can absolutely tell me to fuck off and go to hell, but… I kinda have this lil’ crush, and I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime?” 

Hanzo blinked at the rushed words, for a moment wondering if he’d suddenly lost the ability to understand English. Jesse… Was… Asking him out? As in out-out? On a date? With a crush? Hanzo’s brow furrowed as he looked up into those ernest, anxious golden eyes, looking for a hint of a joke or something that would make sense.

 _Wait_ , he realized with epiphany. Not golden. _Amber._

“Jesse, I….” His voice faltered, and whatever question had been forming faded as the bells above the door tinkled with obnoxious cheerfulness. He and Jesse broke apart-- and when had they leaned in that close?-- as Hanzo reluctantly turned his attention to the intruder.

Or intruders. Four men walked through the diner door, and the hairs on the back of Hanzo’s neck rose with wary alarm. Everything about them, from their suspiciously nondescript clothing to the way they walked in a formation as though they expected a fight screamed _predator_ to his long dormant instincts. Electricity thrummed under his skin, and he carefully wrapped his hand around the hidden blackjack under the counter even as he put on his customer service smile.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” he said, voice steady and carefully pleasant. “What can I get for you?” 

The man in the front, apparently the ringleader, stepped forward with just as much forced casualness. A professional, Hanzo thought. But a professional what? “Our apologies, but we’re here on business.”

 

“Business?” Hanzo asked, glancing at Jesse, who seemed to have shrunk to the other end of the counter with his hat lowered and shoulders hunched. 

“Afraid so,” the man said, oozing sincerity and charm in a way that made Hanzo itch to slam the blackjack in his face. Not law enforcement, they’d have badges. These were hunters of some sort. “There’s been a wild dog sighting in there area. Dangerous and injured. We’re tasked with bringing it in before someone gets hurt. Have you seen anything of the sort?”

Hanzo’s mind flashed to the three-legged dog he’d been feeding. That was the only dog he’d seen running wild, and it was hardly dangerous. And yet, he had a sneaking suspicion that was their target. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jesse tense. 

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly, “but I’m afraid, I haven’t seen anything larger than a cat around here.”

“Are you sure?” the ringleader prompted. “There’s a pretty big reward. And you wouldn’t want to misinform us, now would you?”

Hanzo’s lip twitched in an aborted attempt to snarl. Bounty hunters, then. Why they were after dogs, he had no idea, but they’d get nothing from him.

As they spoke, one of the man’s companions slowly walked to Jesse’s seat at the counter, suspicion in his eyes. While Hanzo and the ringleader had a silent battle of wills, his hand moved to grasp Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse stood and turned with incredible speed, slamming a gloved hand into the man’s jaw. 

“Shit!” yelled one of the others, running to assist his associate as Hanzo and the ringleader both jumped. “It’s him!”

The hunters charged Jesse, drawing clubs and knives from hidden sheathes, and Hanzo leapt over the counter with blackjack in hand. He made it to Jesse’s side, ready to aid as all hell broke loose in one of the most riotous brawls Hanzo had ever been a part of.

Later, when he had time to think, he’d remember details such as crashing his weapon across the nose of the ringleader with a satisfying crack of cartilage, and a rush of heat and flurry of fists from Jesse next to him. 

Blue lightning crackled along Hanzo’s arm and into his weapon. Not a bow, but it apparently was enough. Years and years of training rushed back, and his body moved of its own accord with confident strikes. A dark thrill ran through him as he roared at his opponents, limbs flying in dangerous patterns and forms as he attacked. As much as he’d hated the reasons he had his skills, it felt good to fight again.

He glanced at Jesse to his side, and found a mirroring joy along the man’s face as he tore into his own targets. His lips were stretched in a fierce grin, showing long, sharp teeth. His eyes were wild, his hair flying loose around pointed ears that peeked through without his hat to hide them. Hanzo’s eyes widened in realization, and he found himself laughing. Apparently Jesse’d been telling the truth after all!

The battle could have lasted forever or only an instant. Hanzo never bothered to figure it out. At the end, there were four bodies laying in crumpled heaps along the floor of the diner, and Hanzo felt a slight surge of irritation and guilt. He’d have to clean that up, and Genji was probably going to yell at him for getting blood on a _restaurant floor_. 

But clean-up would have to wait. Hanzo leaned against the counter, panting with weary satisfaction. His body would hurt in the morning, but for now, adrenaline flooded him with giddy delight. He grinned up at Jesse. “So you’re _actually_ a werewolf.”

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Yeah… It’s… A long story.” He coughed and went silent for a moment. “So… Uh… You’re a magic ninja then?”

Hanzo snorted. “It’s a long story,” he said with a smirk. “One I’d be happy to tell you… Over coffee sometime?” 

Jesse blinked and a slow grin stretched across his face. “You know, I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
